


River of Light

by vysila



Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Established Relationship, Han/Luke - Freeform, Kashyyyk, M/M, Post-Canon, morning sex is the best!, skysolo, skysolofest, skysolofest day 6: Free Space
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-23
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-06-30 11:06:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15750414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vysila/pseuds/vysila
Summary: Several years after Endor, Han and Luke are living quietly and happily on Kashyyyk, helping with the post-war rebuilding there, but the galaxy is unlikely to leave them in peace for very long.





	River of Light

**Author's Note:**

> The first chapter is definitely quite explicit. You have been warned! The plot will make its appearance in chapter 2. There will be angst and adventure eventually, along with more characters.
> 
> There are some references to events that occurred in another story of mine, "From the Ashes", but these can be easily understood in context without reading the other story.
> 
> Written for the 2k18 [skysolofest ](http://skysolofest.tumblr.com) over on tumblr

The strident call of a phenarys woke Luke. Even deep in a sound sleep, his connection to the Force stood vigil, and reassured him the harsh sound presaged no threat. Not here on peaceful Kashyyyk, away from the turmoil of post-war politics. And on a level beneath consciousness that came from a lover's heightened sensitivity rather than the Force, he was aware of Han sleeping serenely next to him.

No reason, then, for an abrupt jolt of adrenaline to set his heart pounding, to bring him to instant alertness; he could afford the leisurely rise from dreams to awareness. He opened sleepy eyes to a barely lightened sky just in time to see the great hunting bird of the southern continent sweep past the hut's crumbling doorway, coasting effortlessly on the dawn breezes.

The sight brought him fully awake. A good omen according to Wookiee folklore, and one Chewie and the Elders would be pleased to hear about. A rare phenarys sighting could only bode well for the Renewal.

Even better, four barely feathered chicks trailed behind their parent in haphazard formation. In contrast to the adult's fluid assurance, the chicks' confused weaving and bobbing reminded him of Chewie's description of their glider the first time he and Han had taken her up. As passenger on the maiden flight, she'd certainly felt ungainly to Luke. Unpowered flight had been such a novelty for both of them.

Luke stretched and considered getting up to check on the glider. This high in a wroshyr tree, wind was a given, powering through the leaves and branches to scatter the remains of last night's campfire, and even threatening their blankets. Or the glider, possibly, though they'd secured it the previous night, all too aware of the gamble they were making. They'd be stranded deep in unfamiliar territory if the fickle winds chose to gust beyond the limits of their primitive precautions.

What's life without a little risk, huh? Han had asked, that lopsided grin quirking one corner of his mouth as they fumbled with unfamiliar ropes instead of the usual gravity devices. Closing his eyes, Luke conjured the image of a doubtful Han just prior to departure, reluctantly dropping the gravlocks on a cluttered work table, torn between safeguarding their craft or honoring the Wookiee restrictions against non-traditional devices in their Preserve.

The glider itself had been grudgingly approved, a concession to their human frailties and inability to reach the Ceremonial Circle within the allotted time without assistance.

The winds weren't blowing hard enough to absolutely demand he get up yet, so he lay still for a moment longer, gathering purpose and focus, unwilling to leave the snug comfort of Han's loose embrace.

When Han shifted in his sleep and tangled their legs together, making it impossible for Luke to move without disturbing his partner, Luke knew he'd been waiting for just such an excuse.

An excuse, he thought, to shelter in the warmth of belonging that flourished like a garden in the afternoon sun. Any excuse at all to linger just a moment longer, not in sweet dreams, but in the infinitely more precious reality found in Han's arms.

Han stirred again, and this time the slight tension in his body signaled wakefulness, reliable response to his own small movements.

"Good flying weather?" Han mumbled, warm breath fanning the nape of Luke's neck. And that was all it took to ignite the spark of joy that'd taken up permanent residence in his soul since he and Han had become lovers.

The phenarys seem to think so, he meant to say, but "Mmmm" was all he could manage past the gladness squeezing his chest.

"That mean yes?" Behind him, Han eased up on one elbow and yawned with a jaw-popping enthusiasm that made Luke wince in sympathy. "Hells, Luke! Looks like you're awake before the rest of the world again. Gotta break you of that habit somehow."

He buried his smile into the jacket that served as a pillow so Han wouldn't see it. Of all the criticisms Han could levy against him, this was one that Luke was grateful to hear -- every single time it was voiced. Because there'd been a time when Han hadn't been able to sleep at all, after Drualla, tormented by self-recrimination and a debt of guilt that just wouldn't go away. It'd taken a while, but the healing power of love and time had triumphed over bad memories.

The complaint faded into a muffled grumble and a hollow thump as Han flopped back down on their improvised bed and wrapped himself close around Luke, a move that always sent a thrill skittering down his spine at lightspeed. "'S not a crime to sleep past dawn, y'know."

Han's erection pressing against his back awakened dormant energy under the surface of his skin like an underground tremor triggering a tidal wave. Unstoppable. Three years together, and Luke still was nowhere close to taking his good fortune for granted. Impossible to imagine that he'd ever grow tired of waking up this way, with Han's desire for him unmistakable.

"I'm sure there's a law against it somewhere," he teased back. And there doubtlessly was, just as there were laws, written and unwritten, on practically everything. Including who you could love.

Han snorted and rubbed a bristly chin against tender skin, drawing shivers from Luke that had nothing to do with the chilly air temperature and everything to do with the anticipation uncurling in his groin. 

"Be like you to go to the trouble of looking it up, too. Just to prove me wrong."

"Only if you don't put the time to good use." The dare came out between ragged gasps, because Han's teeth scraped lightly across his shoulder and neck, and came in for a quick nip to an earlobe that tightened nipples and hardened his cock instantly.

"Define 'good use'." Another nibble, and a quick, rough tonguing by way of apology.

Luke turned into the caress, a fringe of silky dark hair sliding against his cheek. "Hey, if you can't figure it out... "

Words died in his throat when Han skated his hand across belly muscles growing painfully rigid with expectation, paused over the navel as if to gauge the exact degree of tension coiled within Luke's body, and whispered against his ear.

"So what's the penalty if I guess wrong?"

"Haven't decided yet." A supple wriggle of his hips and Han's cock settled into the crease between his buttocks with the comfortable ease of familiarity. Right where he wanted it.

"Give me a hint."

"Sorry, time's up." Luke reached back with his free arm and, with the flat of his hand, urged Han's hips in tight against his. For the spreading heat of close quarters and the pleasure of sweaty skin-to-skin contact.

"There's a time limit?"

He imagined the expression on Han's unguarded, half-awake face, the quizzical amusement that raised eyebrows and tugged the shadowed corners of that wide, generous mouth into the first smile of the day. This, more than anything, was the truth of what they shared. Intimacy laced with laughter. Passion heightened through generosity. Affectionate gestures and mutual confidences that bound them one to the other more effectively than any law could presume or deny.

"There is now." And to think he'd once considered flirting to be a pointless activity.

Apparently satisfied with the results of its initial survey, Han's inquisitive hand slid lower. Roving fingers found Luke's erection and gently stroked down the full length. 

The raw shock of contact made him twitch, something he couldn't control, especially not when he could sense the desire and love resonating between them, something which had taken on a life of its own.

Han's low chuckle sounded in his ear, breath tickling against his cheek. "I can tell."

"Look who's talking." He tightened his grip on Han’s hip, the better to meld them together, into the one person they almost were.

"It's all your fault, y'know." In apparent retaliation, Han closed his fist around his cock and the air around Luke suddenly congealed into a solid mass. "One look at you... "

"Yeah? One look-- and what?" he challenged through the effort of breathing. Han's touch had long affected him this way, made oxygen a scarce commodity.

Han planted another kiss on his shoulder. "You get me up before the sun, tease me, threaten me, and now you want flattery too?"

Luke found it hard to imagine life getting any better than this, waking up with laughter and love. "Absolutely."

"Greedy, aren't you?"

"Very." Definitely nothing better than being pressed hard against Han, trapped between insistent hardness behind and demanding grip in front. "And selfish too."

"Greedy and selfish. You're gettin' to be a bad influence on my pure character, you know that?"

He couldn't help the leap his heart seemed to give inside his chest, the way sheer exultation thudded high in his throat at the customary gibe. Frequent repetition of this comfortable morning routine hadn't lessened the impact any.

"Didn't think it would take so long to corrupt you, pirate." 

"Who're you calling a pirate? I'll have you know I'm a very upright kind of guy."

With a languid shift of weight Luke rolled on his side to face Han and carded fingers through tangled dark hair. Even something as straightforward and simple as touching Han's hair could strike hard and make his throat close up with wanting.

"You think?" he teased, dipping his chin toward his chest so he could look upwards at Han through his lashes. The way Han claimed he'd done all those years ago in a dreary Mos Eisley cantina, although any flirting had been entirely unconscious on his part back then.

Han answered with credible confidence and a low chuckle that promised payback for his little game. "Hey! I know."

Beneath the blanket warm hands slid across his skin, raising muscle flutters in their wake, and settled against the small of Luke's back. He breathed out a small sigh of utter contentment. Their year on Kashyyyk had been full of unhurried, mellow interludes like this. Healing moments that'd nourished their love the way gentle rains sustained the lush forest around them.

He traced one finger around the curving rim of Han's right ear, drawing out the amiable tranquillity just a moment longer. "Maybe it's one of those things that depends on your point of view?"

The first timid fingers of direct sunlight touched his shoulder and crept across Han's face, confirming a playful smile and corresponding suggestive glitter in hazel eyes, although somehow Han managed to introduce an aggrieved tone to his response. "What's the matter? Don't believe me?"

On the edge of laughter, Luke smiled back as he tried to smooth down a stubborn snarl of hair. "Looks like there's some truth in that statement, all right," he agreed mildly, pretending not to notice the way Han's cock twitched against his thigh.

Han took the bait he'd offered and used it to leverage that smile into a broad grin, although his voice went from low to downright husky, like he'd just swallowed a lungful of morning mist. "That ain't the only thing upright about me, either."

Luke shivered again when Han cupped both hands around the curve of his buttocks and moved his hips until their erections rubbed together.

Shuddering from the pure electricity sizzling down every nerve path in his body at the simple pressure, at the clear invitation, Luke clutched his hands in Han's hair and pulled their faces together, closing the remaining fractional distance.

"Yeah, I can see that," he murmured against Han's lips, suddenly starved for the day's first taste of his lover. 

Their first kiss of the morning was always like starting over. Learning anew the countless nuances of scent, taste and texture, surrendering to the intoxicating thrill scooting through his veins. Every time Han yielded to him like this, meeting the demands of lips and tongue with an urgency all his own, amazement loosened in Luke's chest. Amazement that, after everything they'd been through, they'd come out intact on the other side, and together.

He'd call himself lucky, except that such an understatement was laughable.

Han gripped his backside harder when the first kiss deepened to a steep, searching angle, and fretful moans rose in Luke's throat only to be swallowed again, because Han was breathing for him. Despite the connection that anchored him to Han, there was nothing limiting about the way Han made him feel, like his skin couldn't contain this much happiness. The sunlight warming his back didn't stand a chance of competing with the heat he and Han generated together.

One kiss, and another, and another, until by silent mutual accord they eased apart to breathe for themselves. Luke caught his lower lip between his teeth at sight of Han, glowing from desire rather than the sun casting its radiance over them both.

You're so beautiful, he wanted to say, because it was the truest thing he'd ever known, but his tongue, still wanting more kisses, refused to shape the thought into words.

Han offered a self-satisfied smirk that said I know and pushed his hips up enticingly at the same instant. "No you don't."

Maybe he was dazed and lightheaded from the kisses and the unstable pressure in his groin, but... "Don't what?"

"See it." Han's smug expression mutated into gleeful provocation. "Feel it, sure. But you can't see my... uprightness. Not from that angle you can't."

It wasn't Han's undisguised proposition or the casually inventive approach that made Luke's breath catch in his throat, but the utter security he found in Han's eyes when he said things like that. The absolute certainty that whatever he felt was welcomed and reciprocated.

A euphoric tumult in his chest released both a grin and an urge to tease that smirk off Han's face. He placed one hand against the side of Han's neck, to measure the pulse thrumming there. His life, as much as Han's, defined by the strong, unfailing rhythm. "Are you suggesting it's my responsibility to do something about that?"

Han matched the grin and brought his hands up to capture Luke's face between them. "Didn't figure to take bids." And then he pulled Luke's head down for a hard, intense kiss.

A kiss that set Luke's heart to hammering out a wild tempo and ignited a short, fast-burning fuse in his gut. When he pulled away to haul in a badly needed gulp of air, his voice scraped harshly, unfamiliar to his own ears, stumbling over joking words that no longer seemed quite so important. "What's it worth to you?"

That kiss must've affected Han like a torpedo to the gut, too, because his voice shaded from teasing to serious within a single syllable. 

"Luke..." Han's big hands still cradled his face, one thumb rubbing across lips that burned after that kiss. "Everything."

Luke's stomach launched straight into freefall at the unequivocal commitment in Han's eyes, the countless ways he managed to say I love you. They'd made a blind leap together, years ago, and no bottom in sight yet.

He hung onto the gaze as long as possible, until, like his skin, his soul couldn't contain what he found there. "Me too," was all he could manage to rasp out past a thickening in his throat. He drew a knuckle across Han's bristly chin, the coarse stubble reminding him of Han's unshaven state the first time they'd made love, and how hard he'd worked to breach Han's defenses. And how far they'd come since then.

Driven now by a familiar urgency to get as close as possible, Luke ducked his head, breaking Han's gentle grip on his face, and pressed his lips against the little hollow formed by the corner of Han's mouth. "Let's find out just how upright of a fellow you are, shall we?" he whispered, finding his voice again. The hollow widened and deepened as a smile formed beneath his lips and their joint mood veered back to playful.

"I think you need a better vantage point for that, Luke," Han advised, laughter under the solemn surface of his words, and turned his head just enough so that their mouths sealed together again. In another instant, Luke suddenly found himself turned flat on his back with Han grinning over him. That little tussle crushed the leaves and moss they'd used as a mattress and now the sharp fragrance of tolukka spice stung Luke's eyes.

The ever-present wind chose that moment to whip up a micro-cyclone that flipped the blankets covering them into the far corner of the hut and briefly pelted them with a foreststorm of debris before lifting skyward through a gaping hole in the roof.

More than the cold wind and spicy aromas stole the breath from Luke's lungs as he watched Han kneel up. Underneath the tawny skin that gleamed in the crystalline sunlight, sharp-edged bones and ridged muscles defined familiar territory. Bits of leaves had caught in Han's hair, green and golden to match the highlights kindling in his eyes.

"Upright enough for you?" Han tempted, entirely unruffled as he palmed his erection with one hand and guided Luke's hand with the other. 

"That'll do," Luke approved, his mouth gone dry from the heat of contact. Fingers curling around Han's cock, solid and heavy, a perfect fit in his hand.

"But you're too far away," he murmured, "for me to make an accurate assessment." He loosened his grip and drew his thumb along the underside of Han's erection from root to crown. Loose skin slipped under his hand as easily as silky fabric whispering across flesh -- and just as soft. "Come closer."

No time left for wondering or thinking then, only feeling, because Han dropped over him at a steep and swift incline that would've knocked him breathless if Han hadn't caught the full impact of his fall with his hands on either side of Luke's shoulders. Not that he wasn't already halfway to breathless anyway, with Han full-length on top of him, one thigh pressed hard against Luke's cock with tormenting friction.

"Close as I can get," Han promised, just before claiming his mouth again. A familiar thrill fired in Luke's throat and chased through nerves to a final destination in his groin as he surrendered to pure sensation. Han's tongue searched his mouth with a determined thoroughness that matched his own urgency, until he bucked up against the scalding pleasure.

"Han--" A rough demand for more, for everything, gasped out between kisses. An overwhelming desire to merge outracing his pulse.

"Gods, Luke..." A brief pause where every trace of playfulness evaporated from Han's expression in the full blaze of arousal, and then he eased over onto his side and took Luke with him. "I need you."

Luke laid his free hand against Han's neck and felt the convulsive swallow as his voice stumbled between words. They were both coming undone with a velocity that soared off the charts, like going from stall to lightspeed in nanoseconds.

A couple of months ago he'd asked Han why he always said need instead of want. That question had startled both an embarrassed grin and unvarnished truth out of Han. 'Cause the wanting's pretty self-evident, don't you think? But the rest of it-- maybe that doesn't always show so much.

"It shows," he whispered, leaning forward to jot kisses along the line of collarbone from shoulder to sternum, tracing the contours of rigid bone beneath smooth skin. Han's flavor bursting on his tongue, moist salty heat like pure liquid energy, combined with the taste of spice and smoke from last night's campfire.

As he slid down Han's body, chest muscles tensed and bunched beneath his wandering lips and hands, and he rode out the swell of motion with his cheek anchored over Han's heart, fingertips tracing the expansion and contraction of ribs.

A single word rumbled from somewhere deep in Han's chest, felt rather than heard. His name. A plea. A demand.

When he captured a stiff nipple between his lips and flicked his tongue against the hard peak, Han writhed under him, chest lifting to meet his caresses. He knew Han's body by now, knew his reactions to within a heartbeat's measure and could've designed a precise formula of touches and kisses guaranteed to trigger climax -- but that wasn't what he wanted. Wasn't good enough for them, for Han.

Joy came with moving beyond the boundaries of knowledge and experience, searching for new ways to enhance what they already shared. In the gift of serendipitous discovery, like the startled jolt that seized Han when he nibbled at the crease of pale, tender flesh underneath one arm and the way Han responded by hauling him in close for more kisses. It was in the visible response in his cock when Luke licked along the groove where thigh joined groin and fingers clutched in his hair. From the sharp thrill of Han's teeth nibbling their way down his chest and belly, and the unexpected squeeze of a big hand closing around his balls. In the sweetness of wordless moans wrenched from Han's throat in the wake of breathy kisses pressed into the palm that cradled his cheek, and in the almost painful tension within himself as he moved between legs that sprawled open in invitation.

Teasing, torturing them both by delaying the moment when he sealed his mouth around that needy cock, instead he dragged his tongue across tight balls and tickled the even more sensitive skin beneath. When Han's pelvis rose in response, along with a muttered curse that would've made a Wookiee blush, Luke slipped his hands under Han's buttocks and claimed control of the wriggling hips.

His favorite kind of play here, on flesh so protected and hidden that the mere whisper of warm breath was enough to draw explosive reaction. His favorite taste of Han, too, sharp and pungent and pure. This was what made him tremble, shaken to the core when, by simple pressure of tongue and lips, he could bring Han to the threshold of overload. 

Maybe he wasn't going to get the chance to take that cock into his mouth after all, draw it deep into his throat and coax a climax out that way, because he could feel muscles contracting to their limits, impossibly tight on the countdown to the release point. So he shifted one hand to fold it around Han's cock, thumb rubbing across the leaking crown -- and at the same time thrust his tongue deep into Han.

There. The Jump, as Han called it. The instant when tension wound so tightly couldn't take any more pressure and rebounded with enough energy to catapult them to the sky. The ring of muscles convulsed spasmodically around Luke's tongue and hot, sticky fluid spilled over his hand.

Han yelled, but Luke could barely hear it over the pounding of blood in his ears, squeezed between legs that'd scissored in on him in a purely instinctive expression of climax. It didn't matter anyway, because he always found himself totally breathless with Han's release, like all the oxygen around them had been needed to fuel Han's Jump.

He was shaking now, probably more than Han, from the resonance of pleasure and the unanticipated haste by which it'd happened.

No formula could ever predict something like this. 

Han's legs loosened limply and Luke pushed up with arms that threatened to collapse under his weight, and met a shaken, hazy gaze.

"Gods, Luke--" His mouth trembled just the slightest bit, probably invisible to anyone but Luke. "That was..."

Han foundered for words, but Luke didn't need them. Everything Han wanted to say was visible, in his unfocused eyes and shaky grin, in the utter dissipation of all tension from his long, lean body.

"Yeah, I know." 

"You have no idea, Luke," Han whispered, wrapping both hands around his neck and bringing him close for another deep, searching kiss, like he was hunting his own taste in Luke's mouth. 

When they broke apart for air, a smoldering, hazy expression was still in the dark eyes and Han slid his hand down to grip Luke's erection. Han's release had only made him harder, driven the wanting deeper.

"We got some unfinished business." Han's lazy drawl sent a pleasant shiver straight down Luke's spine, on a direct path to his cock.

"Now I want you inside me." Staring straight into Luke's eyes, Han reached over his head with his free arm, with a purpose Luke could name. Fumbling for the pack tossed carelessly aside last night, for the tube of lubricant inside. With an extra lunge, fingers finally closed on the prize and brought it out.

Luke watched Han's determined scrambling, almost laughing at the way he could combine giving and taking, submission and domination, in the same gesture. The way he offered and demanded at once.

Before they'd become lovers, when he hadn't been sure Han would accept what he offered, he'd wondered how Han might react to this particular request. Wondered if the man who always seemed to be in control would ever willingly surrender that control.

He'd gotten the answer to that question a long time ago.

"'S cold. Don't forget to warm it up first."

Luke accepted the tube tossed his direction, along with the admonition, with a small grin. "So why can't you do the--"

"'M busy." Han ducked down the length of Luke's body, hands skimming everywhere, until his breath warmed Luke's cock. And then he did what Luke had wanted to do earlier, closed his hot, wet mouth over Luke's aching cock. An expert mouth that teased and nibbled and sucked, that knew what he wanted before Luke himself could put name to the longing.

Adrift in the pleasure shaped by Han's actions, it was Luke's turn to surrender. He'd learned that giving pleasure was a far easier task than accepting that same pleasure graciously and whole-heartedly. How much simpler to be the one giving and doing, in control and incurring no debt. How much harder to accept pleasure as his due, not as an obligation to be reciprocated as soon as possible. Harder yet to acknowledge that there were limits to selflessness even in a loving relationship, that sometimes selfishness was a necessity rather than a luxury, and had to be cultivated on both sides.

"Good... reason," he managed to gasp out between ragged attempts to pull air into his lungs and beginning to wonder if they were going to need the lube after all. The only reason he managed to say anything at all past thought-defying indulgence was stubborn determination that Han not get the last word this time.

By some silent, invisible accord that happened far too frequently to be coincidence, Han raised his head and glanced up, with a taunting lick of his lips that came within a hairsbreadth of pushing Luke over the brink. "Warmed up yet?"

Hells, he should've known getting the last word in with somebody like Han was utterly impossible. Serve him right if cold lube made him squirm for a minute.

"Shall we find out?" While Han lay back, Luke flipped open the tube and squirted a generous dollop onto his fingers. Oh yeah, Han was going to squirm.

He did, but only briefly, and grinned anyway as Luke positioned himself above Han. "Ain't gonna work, y'know."

Not taking his gaze away from Han's face, because he didn't want to miss a single shading of desire washing across that strong, beautiful face, Luke lifted one eyebrow. "It isn't?"

"Nah." Han locked both hands around Luke's neck and pulled him down for swift kisses jotted to forehead, cheeks and jaw. "Not lettin' you get off easy this time. Gotta work for your pleasure today."

Swift realization flashed like heat lightning in the summer night sky - a brilliant illumination that captured a truth in the split-second's glare. A gift, masquerading as mockery. Too uncanny by half that Han's thoughts should so directly parallel his own about active and passive roles. An insight they'd need to explore... sometime when they had less pressing matters to take care of.

"Our pleasure, I hope," he grumbled back, preserving the fiction.

Han's smile agreed, and the small curl of upper lip said as clearly as words, so get on with it!

Luke knew they were both ready, no doubt about that. Han's muscles were loose and relaxed after one orgasm, and most likely the pirate, insatiable Corellian that he was, would have a second if Luke took his time.

Their bodies fit together so sweetly and perfectly, joined by blazing heat that seared the breath right out of him. Beyond the haze of physical sensation, in the push-and-pull of friction and pressure, Han's eyes anchored him.

Take me, they said. Take what you want. 

He didn't need permission, of course, nor was that was Han offered. But sometimes it was nice to get reassurance that in doing so, he'd be giving pleasure as well.

He took his time loving Han, teasing them both with controlled deep pushes and equally maddening withdrawals. Slow, paced to the pulse he could see throbbing in Han's neck. Pausing on each inward journey to steal a taste of Han's mouth or sample the sweat trickling down his temples despite the cool morning. Luke didn't realize he was perspiring too, until salt stung his eyes.

He didn't know how long they'd been like this, locked together in a deliberate rhythm, but it'd been long enough for hardness to register against his belly on every inward thrust. Long enough that every muscle in his body trembled with the effort to control, to hold in the high voltage energy screaming down nervepaths, until he couldn't wait any longer.

"Can't... " He took a second to adjust Han's hips higher, so he could wrap one hand around the living warmth of Han's erection, and loosened all control to the Kashyyyk winds. His hips were following their own impatient rhythm now, and from the look on Han's face, it wasn't a moment too soon. "Gods--" 

Han thrust up against him hard in response and clamped hands down on Luke's backside, gorgeous with renewed need. "Come on," he urged through gritted teeth.

Luke didn't need any urging now, because he'd surrendered completely to the instincts of his body and his body knew how to get what it needed. 

It didn't take long at all, either, only a dozen or so hard, fast, short strokes while his mouth was fused to Han's, tongue thrusting into his mouth in matched frenzy, before climax seized him. Beneath him Han thrashed and moaned, and finally bit Luke's lip when the same paralysis struck hard, like a heavy stone dropped into tranquil water. A stillness at the center and an ever-expanding ripple effect outward.

Limp like his bones had suddenly lost form, Luke realized he had collapsed, panting, on top of Han. But it looked like Han didn't mind, since he'd wrapped both arms hard around his torso, practically welding them together. They were stuck together in various places anyway, thanks to Han.

"Han--" Not expecting an answer, but just saying his love's name because that was something else that gave him pleasure.

He raised his head far enough to trace the familiar expression of total satiation on Han's face, eyes closed, mouth bent in a gentle smile. Completely relaxed and at ease. Utterly beautiful.

No need to ask if it'd been good for him. He looked like a sleek, lazy forest cat who'd fed, played and preened and was now prepared to stretch out on a sunny branch for a well-deserved nap.

Luke yielded to the comfortable embrace for a moment longer, then reluctantly and carefully disengaged himself. They were a mess -- at least Han was, and Luke knew he couldn't look any better --dirt and crumbled leaves had caught in the sticky wetness coating their bellies and elsewhere on sweat-slick skin. It occurred to Luke that cleaning up might prove an interesting challenge.

He brushed ineffectually at the mess on his stomach and thighs and only succeeded in transferring some of the mess to his hands. 

Wonderful. First humans invited to a Renewal Affirmation in who knew how many years, and they'd show up looking - and worse, smelling - like a pair of rutting xelifx.

He nudged Han. "Maybe we should get up?"

Han rolled over onto his side, looking for all the worlds like he was about to settle in for a long snooze, then sat up and ran both hands through his hair. Not the best move Han could've made, Luke decided.

"I s'pose so."

Han yawned widely and stretched. Again like a big cat, and Luke watched, enjoying the play of sunlight across polished, glowing skin. The Corellian took a look at his tacky, dirty hands and grinned. "Guess we need to find a place to clean up, too." He looked around vaguely, as if expecting to spot running water at treetop level. "Chewie'll be ready to spit needle darts if we mess this up." 

The last thing they needed to do was embarrass their sponsor or insult the Elders by not showing proper respect for the most sacred and fundamental of all Wookiee rituals.

Luke stood up, shivering suddenly with full exposure to the biting wind. "Should've thought of that before you started things." He leaned over and extended a hand to Han, to pull him up, but instead Han tugged him back down.

"Dream on, kid. You know you can't keep your hands off me." And then Han kissed him again, a sweet, slow lingering kiss that warmed Luke back up in no time at all.

"No problem if you wanna stay here. Take all the time you want," he murmured against the lure of Han's lips. "It's my turn for the left-hand seat anyway."

That brought Han to his feet in one smooth, controlled movement, as Luke had known it would.

"You? Taking the controls in this wind? We'd end up on the wrong end of the continent, farmboy. What do you know about navigating forests?"


End file.
